


An Unconventional Woman

by Aini_NuFire



Series: Musketeer Dragon Riders [19]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Dragon Riders, Drama, Gen, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24039448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aini_NuFire/pseuds/Aini_NuFire
Summary: A tragic accident brings Athos and the musketeers to one Ninon de Larroque, and the discovery of witchcraft within her salon will once again challenge Athos’s sense of duty.
Series: Musketeer Dragon Riders [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564573
Comments: 23
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

Aramis clapped his hands together eagerly as he, Athos, Porthos, and their three dragons gathered in the main yard of the royal dragon compound. "Well, this is a momentous occasion, isn't it?"

"Introducing a new dragon to the fold?" Athos replied drolly. "It happens every few years or so."

"Have you no sense of ceremony?" Aramis sighed.

"I can't believe you waited this long to do this," Porthos complained to d'Artagnan.

Their young Gascon quirked an affronted look at him in return. "She was too small before. One of them could have easily squashed her. No offense," he added quickly to Savron, Vrita, and Rhaego.

Savron and Vrita merely waited patiently to meet their newest member of the group whereas Rhaego was flicking his gaze about rather _impatiently_. Aramis was curious about how this was going to go. His dragon wasn't exactly known for getting along with others, and the fact that he would no longer be the baby among them could prove…interesting.

D'Artagnan waved to Constance who was over at the dragon pens, and she proceeded to open one of the gates and let out a small white dragon. Ayelet was the size of a hound dog now, still sleek in build with paper-thin wings that didn't yet support flight higher than a few feet off the ground for short leaps and bounds at a time. Her pearly scales shimmered with hints of teal, rose, and lavender in the morning sunlight.

Constance led her over to them, the young dragon scampering alongside her in excitement. Ayelet caught sight of the three grown dragons waiting for her and perked up in interest.

"Ayelet, this is Savron, Vrita, and Rhaego," Constance introduced. "I'm sure you'll all grow to be close den mates."

Ayelet crept closer, bobbed her head, then retreated, then scuttled a few feet closer again, nervous energy vibrating her small body. Vrita lowered her head first and extended it toward the young dragon, waiting patiently as Ayelet sniffed her. The little dragon let out a small squeak in Vrita's face. Vrita let out a puff of air back at her.

Ayelet danced over to Rhaego next, rearing up on her hind legs and hopping to get a look at him. He jerked back, gazing down at her with the most dubious look Aramis had ever seen on his dragon. He tried to smother a laugh into his glove.

Not put off, Ayelet bounded closer and started practically climbing up Rhaego's leg to get his attention. He scrambled backward and around behind Aramis, growling low in his throat.

"Hey," Constance chided. "She's just being friendly."

"A foreign concept to you, I know," Aramis said over his shoulder as he watched Savron lean down and snort softly, inviting Ayelet over.

The baby dragon scampered over to him, sniffing wildly all over his face and snout as the sage creature held still until she was finished. He then sat up again and she squawked indignantly at him being out of reach. She then tried to climb him as well but Vrita gently nudged her off to stay on the ground, curling up so she was eye level with the young one.

"Two out of three ain't bad," Porthos said smugly, crossing his arms.

"Rhaego will come around," Aramis protested. He threw his dragon a pointed look where Rhaego was still hiding behind him. "The cowardly dragon, really?"

Rhaego narrowed his eyes and snorted hot breath into Aramis's face.

"We don't have to push things," d'Artagnan interjected, ever the protective parent. Aramis grinned at him.

"They're fine," Constance said firmly. "Besides, introductions are taken in stages. This is just the first meeting. After a few more we can do some training sessions together, get Ayelet used to working with others."

"She's a little small for language development to have begun," Athos commented.

Constance nodded. "She knows her name and tones of voice."

They lapsed into silence, all of them more or less enraptured by the baby dragon. Constance and Athos may have grown up keeping dragons, but the rest of them had never seen one so young and small before. She was rather adorable.

D'Artagnan suddenly made a startled noise. "I have to report for duty," he said reluctantly.

Constance went and gave him a farewell kiss. "I'll see you later."

D'Artagnan nodded, cast one last anxious look at Ayelet, and then headed off.

"You have your hands full with both of them," Aramis remarked with a wry grin to Constance.

She smirked. "D'Artagnan is learning. It is his first dragon rearing after all."

"It's hard to imagine her gettin' as big as Vrita," Porthos said.

"And then d'Artagnan will have his own dragon to ride with us," Aramis added with a smile. He turned and elbowed his sulking dragon in the side. "Come on, make nice with your new baby sister."

Rhaego smacked his jaw grumpily and shuffled away from them to pout.

"Your own hands are full," Athos said with a wry quirk of his lips.

Aramis sighed. As always.

.o.0.o.

D'Artagnan rode behind the royal carriage as the King, Queen, and Cardinal made the trip back from morning Mass. Pierre rode at his side while Captain Treville and Joubert rode at the front and the royal carriage runners sprinted ahead with some red guards to clear the streets. Commoners lined the road, cheering and crying, "God bless Your Majesty!"

These journeys were always fraught, in d'Artagnan's opinion, despite the mostly favorable support the people were showing their King and Queen. It was just that there were so many bodies pressed together and they were so close to the road. It felt like riding through a bottleneck.

And then one of the bodies broke away from the rest, pushing forward toward the carriage careening down the street. D'Artagnan saw a flare of skirts flying toward the coach but that was it. Then there was a scream and the carriage jounced, and d'Artagnan and Pierre pulled back sharply on their reins before their horses could trample the body that came rolling out from the underside of the carriage wheel. People in the throng screamed.

D'Artagnan leaped off his horse and rushed to the girl, rolling her over. Her face was covered in cuts and she was as limp as a rag doll.

"Stay there, Your Majesty!" Treville shouted, riding back toward them. "It's not safe. Ride on. Now!"

There was a thwack of reins and the carriage horses neighed as they surged forward to carry the royals to safety. Red guards swarmed the area, creating a barrier between the rest of the people and the scene. Treville dismounted and hurried over to where d'Artagnan and Pierre were crouched next to the girl. D'Artagnan looked up and shook his head regretfully.

Treville's expression was tight. "Was she armed?"

Pierre pulled a piece of rolled up parchment from her clenched fist. "Only with this." He passed it up to the captain.

"What is it?" d'Artagnan asked after Treville had scanned it.

"A tragic accident," he replied stiffly, rolling the paper back up. "Pierre, Joubert, see her body is taken to the city morgue. D'Artagnan." He cocked his head and d'Artagnan gently laid the dead girl on the ground before rising to follow. "We need to identify this girl. See if anyone in the crowd knew her."

D'Artagnan nodded and went to where the red guards were still holding back the throng of pressing bodies. "Does anyone know this girl?" he shouted over the din.

No one responded. He walked up and down the line calling for anyone who knew who she was.

"Please! Do any of you know who she is?"

A woman pushed her way toward the front of the crowd. "I know 'er name."

D'Artagnan spun quickly. "Let her through," he directed the guards and held out his hand to take hers and lead her away from the masses. "You knew her?" he asked urgently, gesturing to the body that Pierre had covered with his cloak.

"Not well," the woman quickly corrected. "But she'd come into my husband's shop to buy thread for 'er mistress."

"What's her name?"

"Therese Dubois."

"And her family?"

The woman shook her head. "Ain't got one."

"What about her mistress then?"

"I'm afraid I never got 'er name."

D'Artagnan sighed. "Okay, thank you."

He released the woman and went to retrieve his horse to ride on to the palace.

Treville was in the main foyer of the east wing, having not yet gone in to report to the King. He was reading the note again but rolled it back up when d'Artagnan arrived. "Anything?"

"Her name is Therese Dubois and she has no family," d'Artagnan reported. "I couldn't find out anything more, though apparently someone should be missing a servant soon."

Treville simply nodded and the two of them headed further inside to one of the libraries where the King, Queen, and Cardinal were waiting. D'Artagnan hung back a few paces as the captain went to make his report.

"Was it an attempt on my life?" Louis asked, looking shaken by the event.

"The young woman merely wanted to present this petition to the Queen," Treville replied, holding up the parchment.

"To me?" Anne said incredulously. "Why?"

"She was an orphan from a humble background. It has something to do with a plea for women's education."

Richelieu strode over and snatched the petition from Treville before the Queen could take it. "If she was an illiterate orphan, she could not have written this," he said, looking it over. "It is misguided, but not unintelligent."

"You don't favor women's education?" Anne challenged.

The Cardinal tossed her a sardonic look. "I admire learning wherever it is to be found, but this amounts to an attack on the authority of Church and State," he said sharply.

Muffled shouting drew d'Artagnan's attention to the doors behind him just as they swung open.

"Stay out of my way!" a woman demanded. "I will address the King."

D'Artagnan eased his grip on the hilt of his sword as the finely dressed courtier swept forward.

"Comtesse de Larroque!" the King exclaimed. "To what do I owe the honor?"

"Your Majesty," she said tartly. "I want to know why this tragedy happened. If your guards are to blame, I want them punished." She shot a scathing look Treville's way and d'Artagnan automatically bristled at the unfair accusation. It had been an accident, brought on by the girl's own actions, not a failure on the part of the Musketeers.

"You knew this lunatic?" Richelieu asked incredulously.

"She was sane as you or me," the Comtesse snipped. "Well, me, anyway," she amended with a derisive look.

D'Artagnan did have to give her points for disparaging the Cardinal so boldly.

"She was the daughter of a servant of mine," the Comtesse went on. "She had wits and ability. I decided to give her an education."

"A ser- servant girl? An education?" Louis spluttered. When no one else laughed at the joke he faltered. "Sorry, I don't follow."

"It seems you educated her too well," the Cardinal said snidely. "She wrote this and then was killed trying to give it to the Queen."

"Don't be ridiculous," the Comtesse snapped. "She didn't write it. I did."

D'Artagnan's brows rose.

"Did you tell this young girl to give her petition to the Queen?" Treville asked, his tone the most neutral of the bunch.

"I merely told her that the Queen is a woman of wisdom and kindness, who might sympathize with our cause."

"I shall read it," Anne promised.

The Comtesse inclined her head graciously.

"Walk with me in the garden, Ninon," Louis said then, abruptly changing the subject. "I've often found your company so stimulating."

"Another time, Your Majesty," she replied stiffly. "I am too distressed at present." With that, she gave a small curtsey before turning and walking out.

"Did she just refuse my company?" Louis said dubiously.

"I believe she did, sire," Anne replied, biting back a smug half smile.

Louis looked truly gobsmacked by the notion. "Is that allowed?"

"Apparently, the Comtesse de Larroque believes herself above the normal laws and conventions of society," the Cardinal put in.

D'Artagnan waited inconspicuously for the royals to dismiss the captain now that the matter had been addressed and solved.

"Seems such a trivial thing to die for," he commented quietly on their way out.

"That surprises me, coming from you," Treville replied.

"Don't get me wrong," d'Artagnan quickly backpedaled. "I don't share the Cardinal's views on women's education. I just meant…dying just to give the Queen that petition… That girl had her whole life ahead of her. An educated life. It's such a tragic waste."

"Indeed."

"Do you think the Queen will act on the Comtesse's request?"

"She would face a lot of opposition from the Cardinal," Treville answered. "As you just saw, he's ready to make it an act against God."

D'Artagnan snorted in derision. He was pretty sure nowhere in the Bible did God condemn a woman having an education or, heaven forbid, thinking for herself. Honestly, how low was that pompous man willing to stoop just to get his way?


	2. Chapter 2

"I haven't seen the Cardinal get a verbal dressing down since the Duke of Savoy was here," d'Artagnan said with a grin, though he immediately winced afterward and threw an apologetic look at Aramis, who waved him off.

"I wish I coulda seen that," Porthos said. "This Comtesse de Larroque sounds like a fiery woman."

"She even snubbed the King," d'Artagnan added in a hushed voice.

Porthos grinned wider.

Athos ignored their chatter, his attention on his cup of wine. He cared little for court politics, even if the idea of a woman going head to head with the Cardinal was intriguing. Then there was the matter of Therese Dubois and the tragic accident that had claimed her life. The girl's actions were somewhat brave, Athos thought, if not foolish and misguided given the senseless death they had resulted in.

A shadow glided overhead as Kilgar swooped in to land. After the incident this morning, Treville had been summoned back to the palace. Athos noted his sour expression as the captain dismounted and strode over to them.

"I have orders from the Cardinal," he announced without preamble. "He would like you to visit the Comtesse de Larroque's home and investigate whether her interest in these young girls she encourages is…healthy," he finished through gritted teeth.

Everyone's brows rose sharply at that.

"Yer jokin'," Porthos blurted.

"Unfortunately, I am not," Treville replied stiffly. "The Cardinal has his eye set on a new navy for France but the Treasury is bankrupt. The Comtesse's wealth would provide a convenient solution to that."

"So he's jus' gonna drum up some excuse to seize her wealth?" Porthos said incredulously.

"Those are scurrilous rumors and we won't find any evidence to support it," Aramis put in.

"Even so," Treville responded, "we are required to investigate."

Aramis scowled as he stood up, snatching his hat from the table roughly.

Athos didn't like it any more than the rest of them, but they had their orders. He rose more sedately and led the way out of the garrison. The Comtesse's estate was on the edge of the city and not far to walk to, so they would not need their dragons.

When they arrived at the grand house with its large street bustling with activity, Athos thought it looked like a miniature version of the Louvre. It was certainly much larger than his own estate had been back in Pinon.

The four musketeers made their way to the front door, which was wide open, perhaps to let in fresh air, perhaps just in open invitation. Athos decided to take it as the latter and proceeded to head inside, seeing as no servants were there to greet them. They passed through a foyer and took a turn down a white marble hall toward the sounds of a gathering. In a large, resplendent library, a dozen women or so were spread out among sofa chairs and settees, many with open books splayed in their laps.

Athos roved his gaze around the scene, which seemed innocent enough. Not that he expected to find anything untoward happening.

A striking woman strode toward them, her bearing clearly defining her as one of the nobility.

"Comtesse de Larroque," he greeted with a slight inclination of his head in respect. "I am here on behalf of the King. My name is—"

"I know who you are," she cut him off. "I've often seen you at court and thought how handsome you are."

Athos faltered.

"There is a melancholy aspect to your looks that I find intriguing," she went on. "But it's probably only mental vacancy."

A few of the women around them chuckled.

"I hope not," Athos said, abruptly finding himself wrong-footed. Not a common occurrence. "But forgive our intrusion."

"I will not forgive it," the Comtesse replied tartly. "This is a place of scholarship, where women can enjoy each other's company without the crude attentions of men. What is it that you want?"

"Mm? Ah…" Athos already found their reason for being here distasteful; he did not want to have to explicitly state it. "There have been some…concerns for some of the women you've taken in. I'm sure you have your affairs well in hand but we are just following orders."

The Comtesse narrowed her eyes at him. "Just following orders," she repeated coldly. "Well, you've come. Now you can go."

"Your brooch," Porthos interrupted. "What does it mean?"

She glanced down and fingered the gold pendant. "It is a wren. A bird that cannot be caged. A symbol of hope and freedom."

"A symbol of your own dreams and ambitions, I would imagine?" Aramis put in.

The Comtesse arched a brow at him. "Ah. We have a romantic in our midst." Her tone was not so appreciative of the word, and the women chuckled in response. She raised her voice for them all to hear. "Observe, ladies, the remarkable phenomenon—a man of wisdom and perception."

"If by romantic you mean a man who gladly acknowledges the superiority of the female sex, then…I accept the description." Aramis gave a slight flourish of his hand and flashed them one of his dashing smiles.

Athos could have rolled his eyes were he not still trying to figure out how to delicately address their mission here.

The Comtesse smirked. "Your charm won't work here. We are quite immune."

"We are not here to discuss your beliefs," Athos said, redirecting the conversation back to the matter at hand. "The Cardinal has ordered a search of the premises. He wishes to confirm that things are as they appear."

The Comtesse's eyes flashed with fury. "And what precisely is he looking to find?"

"Something that only exists in his sordid imagination," Athos replied calmly.

She regarded him shrewdly for a moment, then drew closer. "Am I right?" she asked in a slightly sultry tone. "Is there an inner sadness that informs the beauty of your features? Answer me honestly, and I shall allow you to search my house."

Again, Athos struggled for a response. "We all have our deep secrets and hidden emotions, Comtesse. Allow me to keep mine to myself."

"A barely adequate answer," she replied. "But I am feeling indulgent. Follow me."

With that, she turned on her heel and started walking away. Athos glanced at his friends who seemed content to remain where they were, exchanging sly smiles at his expense. Athos drew in a breath and followed after the Comtesse.

She led him through her halls, opening every door for him to peek into chambers and sitting rooms. Everything was kept well in order, as was fitting her station.

"As you can see, there is nothing amiss," she said.

"As I expected," Athos replied.

"Do you know how many husbands, fathers, lovers, brothers, come here looking for their lost girls?" she asked. "It can never be that these women choose to leave of their own free will. It must always be that Ninon de Larroque has corrupted them."

"Therese was far below you in status," Athos pointed out. "She was not in a position to make a decision of her own free will."

Ninon lifted her chin. "I view all women as equals, no matter what the circumstances of their birth."

Athos shook his head; she was as misguided as her charges. "You have the money and position to indulge such whims. Look outside your window and tell me everyone is equal."

"You accuse me of hypocrisy?" she rejoined, visibly affronted.

Athos, however, had no desire to get into a spat. "Thank you for your help," he said instead, moving past her.

"Will I see you again?" she asked abruptly.

Athos paused, brow quirking in confusion. "Why?"

Ninon suddenly grasped the lapel of his coat and drew him in for a kiss. He was so stunned he hardly knew how to react, but the moment was brief.

"That's why," she replied. "Come back this evening and dine with me."

Athos was a man of few words but that was by choice. At the moment, however, she had rendered him utterly speechless. It was a feeling he was so unaccustomed to that he found himself inexplicably inclining his head in agreement.

Her lips twitched, and then she proceeded to escort him back to the library.

"Find anything?" d'Artagnan asked, though by his tone it was clear what he expected the answer to be.

"No, we can go."

"Did she flirt with you more?" the young Gascon asked cheekily, quickening his pace to match Athos's hasty exit.

Porthos snorted. "Rubbish. She couldn't stand him."

D'Artagnan and Aramis shared amused snickers.

"One day," Aramis said, "we'll sit down and, er…I'll explain women to you."

Porthos scoffed.

"She invited me for dinner," Athos admitted.

"Did she, now?" Aramis said, tone far too gleeful. "And what did you say?"

"Does it matter?"

"You said _yes_ ," the marksman deduced with delight.

"Oh, he did not," Porthos huffed.

Aramis skipped ahead so he could spin around and walk backward across the street while facing Athos. "Could it be our Athos has a little touch of the Comtesse de Larroque?"

"I am merely being polite."

"I think he does," d'Artagnan said with a grin.

Athos exhaled sharply. He regretted saying anything at all about it.

"Come now, Athos," Aramis cajoled. "It's about time you got back out there. The Comtesse seems like much more interesting company than your usual bottle."

Athos ignored him. He was not interested in an affair, a dalliance, or anything in between.

And yet, there was something undeniably alluring about that woman. _One_ night of conversation wouldn't kill him…

.o.0.o.

Despite his brothers' merciless teasing and the slight attraction Athos held toward Ninon, there was another reason he decided to accept her offer. She was a woman of admirable ideals but misguided in her pursuit of them, and Athos felt a certain duty to illuminate that to her before more young girls suffered unduly for it.

He returned to her home that evening and found her waiting for him on the stoop.

"Don't look so worried," she greeted with a teasing smile. "I won't kiss you again if you don't desire it."

"I'm better prepared to fight you off this time," he replied, the responding banter surprisingly easy to slip into.

"Shall we dine?" Ninon suggested.

Athos sobered. "There's something I need to show you first."

She arched an intrigued brow but slipped her hands into a pair of gloves and held her arm out for him to take. He escorted her from her house and through the streets of Paris to the city morgue. Ninon cast him a questioning look as he led her down the steps to the dark, underground chamber dimly lit with candles. That curiosity dipped into a frown at the numerous stone slabs and lumps covered with sheets.

Athos nodded to Poupart, whom he had notified of their visit and told to have the girl ready. The man walked over to one of the slabs and pulled the sheet back, revealing Therese's battered face.

Ninon gasped and raised a hand to cover her mouth. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Don't you feel responsible?" Athos replied, standing on the other side.

"I gave her an education, clothing and food. Is that a crime?"

"It is if you encouraged the reckless act that cost her life."

"I did no such thing," she snapped. Her expression fell as she turned her gaze to Therese, hand reaching out as though to touch her face but faltering at the last moment. "I was so fond of her. I feel pity and sorrow, but not guilt," she added with a sharp glance at Athos.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he said.

"Yes, you did," she rejoined angrily. She looked back at Therese sadly. "This is the way we all must end. Our foolish heart stopped. Souls utterly departed. She was too young." With a sniff, Ninon stepped back and gestured to Poupart. "Please, cover her face."

Athos felt a tinge of remorse for having brought her here, and he wordlessly walked around the slab to take her arm and lead her out of this house of death. Perhaps she was not as arrogantly idealistic as he'd originally believed, though he still thought she should have educated Therese Dubois more properly when it came to challenging societal norms. Then again, even if she had, it had still been the child's choice to act as she did.

The walk back to Ninon's house was filled with a despondent silence between them. Athos suspected dinner was off the table now—not that he hadn't on some level perhaps intended that consequence with his surprise stunt this evening.

"May I ask…" he began curiously. "Do you dislike men?"

Ninon glanced at him. "I have had many suitors. Some really quite acceptable. But I believe marriage to be a curse. I will not submit to it."

"As it happens, I agree. But why?"

She regarded him seriously. "I am a wealthy woman. But on my wedding day, everything that I own becomes the property of my husband, including my body. I will not be owned by anyone."

Athos could appreciate her answer. "So, what they say is true. You are a rebellious woman."

"Does that frighten you?" she asked.

"No. But…" He stopped in the street outside her home and turned to face her. "I was married once, and…now I'm done with romance."

"It ended badly?"

Athos swallowed a snort. "You could say that."

"I am sorry for it," Ninon said genuinely. "I want equality between the sexes, not hate."

Athos nodded. It was a noble desire, but he would not point out that there could hardly be equality between the sexes when there was as yet no such equality even between men.

They were suddenly interrupted by the doors of Ninon's house banging open and shouts echoing from within.

"Get out!" Aramis roared, tossing a red guard down the steps. The marksman looked up and spotted Athos. "Trouble," he barked before turning to march back inside.

Athos had no idea what was going on or what Aramis was doing there but he could hear the chaos coming from inside the house and he surged forward to rush inside, Ninon right behind him. They followed the sounds of raised voices to the library where the place was in utter chaos. Red guards were throwing books from the shelves, ripping them to pieces, while others chased women around the room trying to herd them together. Aramis alone was brawling with some of the soldiers.

Ninon yelled in dismay. "My works! Stop!"

"Stay back," Athos urged. He moved forward and seized the nearest guard. "Where is your authority for this?" he demanded.

The guard threw a punch which Athos ducked under. Athos grabbed him by the back of his uniform and flung him head first toward a support column. He spun as another guard rushed him and swung a fist at the man's face. He couldn't draw his blade on them in case they did have the authority to be here, but Athos was not going to tolerate this abuse of power.

He spotted Aramis grappling with two red guards, the marksman also not drawing his weapons and relying on brute strength instead. Though the Cardinal's men had no such restraint and one of them drew his rapier.

"Aramis!" Athos shouted, grabbing a large book and tossing it across the room.

Aramis caught it, giving it a brief dubious look before he used it to parry a blow from a sword and followed through by clobbering the red guard with it.

Athos snatched up another book and flung it in the face of a guard rushing at him. This was getting them nowhere and the two musketeers were sorely outnumbered. Then several red guards came out from a back hallway with four young girls in their nightclothes ushered between them.

"We found them," one of the men announced to their captain, "sleeping in a hidden chamber."

The captain of the Red Guard gestured for his men to seize Ninon. "Comtesse de Larroque, on the orders of the Cardinal, you are under arrest for the abduction of young women."

"What?" she exclaimed. "This is ridiculous! I did no such thing!" She threw a pleading look at Athos. "Please, make them stop."

Athos faltered. He wanted to help her, he did. But things did not look good, especially with how young these girls were, and if their families didn't know they were here…

The red guards kept shoving at the girls, who were huddling together with sobs and cringes.

"Hey," Aramis snapped in warning.

"They are coming with us," one of the red guards barked, eliciting a few more frightened cries from the young girls.

"You are making a mistake!" Ninon pressed.

Athos splayed his hands helplessly. There was nothing he could do.

Suddenly every candle in the library exploded with a whoosh and a roar, flames shooting straight up several feet. Women screamed and red guards who were standing too close scrambled away as tongues of fire licked at them. Athos stared in bewilderment.

One of the curtains caught and Aramis moved first, grabbing the drape and yanking it down to stomp out the flames before it could set the entire library ablaze.

The captain of the Red Guard jabbed a shaky finger at Ninon. "Comtesse de Larroque, you are under arrest for witchcraft! Get her out of here!"

The red guards flanking Ninon grabbed her arms roughly and yanked them behind her back, then forcibly dragged her from the house. The girls in their nightclothes were herded after her, and the candle flames died down to normal levels.

Athos exchanged a shocked look with Aramis.

What the hell just happened?


	3. Chapter 3

Aramis swept his gaze around the now quiet library with its books and papers scattered everywhere, eyeing the sedate candle flames warily. He was having difficulty believing the Comtesse was a witch, though the candles hadn't all just exploded by themselves. Still, it was a strange coincidence.

"Come on," Athos said, starting after the red guards, though he immediately turned to head for the garrison once they were outside. They'd have to report this to Treville.

"What were you doing at the Comtesse's house?" Athos asked, tone characteristically mild but Aramis thought he could detect a note of accusation in it.

"I was in the mood for stimulating conversation tonight."

" _Aramis_ …"

He huffed. "I do appreciate it at times," he said crisply. "Honestly, Athos, I can enjoy feminine company without bedding them."

Athos snorted skeptically.

Aramis just rolled his eyes. Let his brother think him single-minded. The truth was he hadn't been with anyone since Adele and he wasn't inclined to go around engaging in more affairs right now. But he still got lonely for softer company and softer conversation than could be found at a tavern with fellow musketeers.

They reached the garrison and went up to the captain's office to report what had happened. Treville was as stunned as they were about this development.

"You are sure you didn't see these girls when you searched the house this morning?"

"No," Athos answered.

Treville flicked a look at Aramis.

He gave a subtle head shake. "There was a secret chamber."

"And the candles—could it have been a gust of wind?"

Aramis grimaced. "It was rather…unnatural."

"We must ensure the Comtesse is treated fairly," Athos said.

Treville blinked in surprise at his fervent statement. "The charges seem clear to me."

"The Red Guard can hardly be trusted to ascertain all the facts," Athos retorted. "These are serious charges and as such we must treat the investigation seriously."

Treville arched a brow at his lieutenant but apparently decided not to comment on his uncharacteristic defense of a suspected witch. "Alright, I agree. Do you know where the young girls were taken?"

"Probably the Red Guard garrison," Aramis said.

Treville nodded and grabbed his cloak off the hook on the wall. Aramis and Athos wordlessly followed. It would be a long night.

.o.0.o.

"Four young women," the Cardinal said forcefully, holding up four fingers to punctuate his statement as he stood before the King and Queen the following morning. "In their nightwear. I can only speculate as to the horrors they have endured."

Aramis glowered at the man. It had been three months since he'd had Adele murdered and framed Aramis for it, and Aramis had not forgotten, nor had his loathing for Richelieu abated in that time. But the sour knowledge that the First Minister of France was currently untouchable kept him professionally subdued where he stood behind Treville. Athos, on the other hand and in a rather startling reversal, was fuming.

"The girls claim they were not coerced," Treville interjected.

The three musketeers had arrived just in time the night before to stop the red guards from badgering the poor girls into tears. After hours of gentle coaxing and questions, they had continued to assert that the Comtesse had not abducted them from their homes, that she had been kind and given them a place to sleep and food to eat. They had also been confused by the accusation that Ninon was a witch. The fire display in the library had certainly scared them, but they claimed there had never been any indication before that the Comtesse practiced magic.

"Then why lock them in a secret chamber?" Richelieu countered. "No doubt they were to be vilely used for the Comtesse's dark rituals."

"We have no proof the Comtesse was practicing magic of any kind," Athos interjected, a tad too loudly.

Aramis fought to keep his surprise off his face while Treville shot him a covert look of warning.

The Cardinal rounded on him. "You were there, were you not? Do you deny the blatant display of sorcery my men witnessed?"

Athos's jaw ticked. "I do not, but we cannot be sure it was the Comtesse who caused it."

Aramis shifted nervously. While it was true they couldn't say for sure who was responsible, he wasn't comfortable casting suspicion on all the other women who had been present as well. They didn't need a full out witch hunt.

"It must be her," Richelieu insisted. "She's obviously bewitched these young women. The sorceress must be dealt with swiftly and severely."

"I still can't believe Ninon is a witch," Louis remarked. "She certainly doesn't look like a witch. Aren't they supposed to be ugly?"

"Your Majesty, this is a serious matter," the Cardinal said.

"Indeed it is," Anne spoke up. "And as such we should take great care in the actions we take." She leaned toward Louis. "Athos is right; what evidence do we have that Ninon is in fact a witch?"

"The sanctity of the natural order is far more important than debating the issue," Richelieu argued.

"The sanctity of human life is of equal importance," Athos proclaimed.

"If she is innocent, then her soul will rest with God."

Aramis subtly reached out to grip Athos's elbow and hold him back lest he lose it on the Cardinal. Aramis could just imagine Richelieu jumping at the chance to claim Ninon had bewitched herself some musketeers.

Louis nodded decisively. "Athos is right," he said. "Ninon is to have a quiet trial and is to be spared unless she confess directly of her own free will and without torture."

"Your Majesty—" Richelieu spluttered.

"That is my final decision," Louis cut him off.

Richelieu looked as though someone had stuffed a cactus down his throat, something Aramis took extreme satisfaction in witnessing.

Unfortunately, even with the King's proclamation, things were far from over for Comtesse Ninon de Larroque.

.o.0.o.

The wind buffeted Athos's face, blowing his hair back as Savron soared across the skies. Aramis and Porthos were to his left and right, keeping an eye on the party below riding horseback down the road—d'Artagnan, Ninon, and two red guards. They were on their way to the Monastery of the Holy Cross where Ninon's trial would be held. Athos had no doubt the Cardinal, who would be arriving later, would make a mockery out of it. The only good thing was he couldn't sentence Ninon to burn at the stake unless she confessed.

Not that living out the rest of her days imprisoned in the monastery held much appeal either.

The musketeers' dragons landed in a field outside of the monastery and the three of them slung their saddle bags over their shoulders and proceeded to make their way on foot to the gate to meet up with d'Artagnan and their "prisoner."

As the horses approached the gate, Athos noted how stoically Ninon was carrying herself. She was facing terrible charges and an uncertain future yet held her head high with dignity. He stepped forward to help her dismount once they were within the courtyard.

"Thank you," she said, granite exterior cracking for just a moment.

Athos had nothing to say to that, nothing to make this sordid affair better for her. All he could do was stand back helplessly as the red guard stepped in to take her arm and sternly lead her away to whatever cell she would be housed in.

"They made good time," d'Artagnan spoke up, gaze directed through the archway.

Athos looked and spotted the Cardinal's carriage jouncing up the road toward the monastery. Behind it was another, lesser adorned coach. The musketeers lingered in the courtyard, watching as Richelieu arrived. The four young girls climbed out of the second carriage, heads hanging as though they were prisoners themselves being led to the gallows. Athos wondered whether the Cardinal would have had a confession coerced out of one of them, and a cold feeling of dread settled in his gut as they began to assemble for the trial.

The highest ranking monks of the Order presided over the trial, with the Cardinal spearheading it. Ninon, stripped of her finery and left only in a simple dress, was brought to sit on a low stool before a squat podium with the judges looming over her from their raised platform.

"Comtesse Ninon de Larroque," the Cardinal began. "Confess your offenses now and spare your victims the ordeal of giving testimony."

"I cannot confess to imaginary crimes," she replied.

"Do you deny you believe in Satan's magic?" Richelieu barked harshly, jabbing a finger at her. "Now, I advise you to consider your answer seriously."

"And I advise you not to ask ridiculous questions," she rejoined.

Chuckles and mutters reverberated among the monks, nuns, and red guards watching the proceedings. The Cardinal's eyes narrowed darkly.

"Fleur Baudin!" he summoned. "Come forward."

One of the red guards nudged the girl into moving, bringing her over to the side of Ninon to face the panel of judges.

Richelieu leaned over the table, fixing her with an austere mien. "All will be well if you tell the truth, child. What happened to you at the Comtesse's salon?"

The girl glanced at Ninon, who gave her an encouraging nod.

"Answer my question," Richelieu said sharply, drawing her attention back toward him.

"Er…the Comtesse taught us things."

"What things? Many of our young women are educated. It isn't something we're ashamed of," he said haughtily.

"Not just embroidery and sewing," Fleur answered. "Natural philosophy, the movement of the cosmos, the secrets of our bodies."

That statement elicited another ripple of whispers throughout the audience.

"The bodies?" Richelieu repeated in a scandalous tone. "So, she took you and locked you in a secret room…and showed you intimate things?"

"You twist every word that comes out of her mouth," Ninon protested.

"Be quiet or you'll be gagged," the Cardinal threatened.

"I was gagged the day I was born a woman!"

"Cheap sentiments of the decadent romance novels your acolytes waste their time in reading!" Richelieu sneered. He turned back to Fleur Baudin. "There's no need to be ashamed, child. This woman has used you for her foul appetites. You cannot be blamed."

"You're making her work sound corrupt," Fleur blurted. "You will suffer for this! You're the one who'll be judged!"

Richelieu waved a dismissive hand at his guards. "Take her away."

The red guards grabbed Fleur by the arms and tugged.

"No!" the girl screeched, and suddenly every window lining the meeting hall blew inward in a shower of shattered shards.

Athos threw his arms over his head to shield himself from the bombardment as pieces of glass tinkled down around him. People screamed and gasped. Even the pitcher of water and glasses on the judges' table had exploded. One of the monks was clutching a bleeding hand.

"Witchcraft!" he exclaimed.

Several red guards drew their swords, and Athos pushed his way to the front to defend Ninon. His friends were soon at his side, not drawing their weapons but holding the overly eager red guards at bay.

The Cardinal surged from his seat. "Who did that?" he demanded, gaze narrowing on Fleur.

"I did," Ninon abruptly declared.

Athos whipped his head around, eyes widening in dismay.

She rose steadily to her feet, lifting her chin as she addressed the judges. "I have dabbled in magic in my pursuit of knowledge. But I tell you this: I have never consorted with the Devil until this moment. I am looking at him."

Richelieu jabbed an enraged finger at her. "Condemned from her own mouth!"

"What are you doing?" Athos hissed.

She swallowed hard. "I am sorry," she replied softly.

"At a time to be determined, you will be taken to a place of execution, and your body will be burned to ashes," the Cardinal proclaimed. "Take her away!"

The red guards shoved the musketeers aside in order to seize Ninon and drag her from the hall. Athos watched helplessly, once again unable to do anything in the face of such blatant displays of sorcery. And now Ninon had confessed. Athos wasn't sure what he felt—betrayed? She had kept this from him, even after the initial charges.

Not that he could have done anything for her if she had told him the truth. In fact, it would have only condemned her, as his duty would have demanded he report her confession.

Although, she would not be the first witch he had neglected to arrest. And Ninon had never given any indication that her pursuits were anything less than noble. Athos had let Agnes go for the same reason.

But Agnes had used her magic to help people and Ninon had used it to…throw tantrums? In front of numerous witnesses both times that would only condemn her. That didn't make sense. She was an intelligent woman and wouldn't possibly be so stupid.

"I can't believe this," d'Artagnan uttered, looking around at the shards of glass glittering all over the floor.

"Something isn't right," Athos replied.

D'Artagnan frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure I believe Ninon is a witch."

"Athos," Aramis interjected reluctantly, "I was there for the candles, and now this? I don't think it's a coincidence."

"I don't think Ninon is foolish enough to use magic so blatantly in front of the Cardinal and his men."

"You think the Cardinal is trying to frame her?"

"That would mean he's in league with a witch," Porthos pointed out. "You really think he could stomach that?"

Aramis cocked his head in consideration. "He does want to seize the Comtesse's wealth."

"That doesn't explain why she confessed," d'Artagnan put in. "Why would she do that?"

"She's protecting someone," Athos said as the pieces started coming together. All four girls had also been present for both instances, but Fleur Baudin was the one who'd been livid with the Cardinal right when the glass exploded. And back in the library, the red guards had been manhandling the girls after finding them in a secret chamber. And what would a secret chamber be for if not to hide the girls for their own protection? Now things were beginning to make sense to Athos. Ninon did care for the girls she took in, not just for their education but their well-being too.

"Fleur Baudin is the witch."


	4. Chapter 4

Athos made his way down to the dungeons beneath the monastery. Aside from the pair of red guards at the top of the stairs, the lower level was mostly empty—save for its lone prisoner locked in one of the cells. Athos drew to a stop in front of it, the light from the ensconced torches casting his shadow sharply into the small chamber. Ninon was pacing but stopped at his arrival.

"Athos," she breathed, rushing to the bars. She looked as though she might reach out for comfort, but he didn't move from his position.

"I need you to tell me the truth," he said seriously. "You are not the witch who exploded the windows or the candles. But you know who is, and you're protecting them."

Ninon recoiled a step, then drew herself up. "I cannot recant my statement. The Cardinal will never pardon it."

"But you are not the witch," Athos insisted in a low tone. "Fleur Baudin is."

Ninon blanched and she surged forward to grip the bars of her cell. "Has the Cardinal accused her? What has she done?"

"Aside from the display during your trial? Nothing."

She frowned. "How did you…?"

"I did not take you for a fool to use magic twice in front of the Red Guard. I do, however, believe you desire to protect these girls."

Ninon dropped her head with a sigh. "She can't control it, especially when her emotions are running high."

"Then she shouldn't have started dabbling in witchcraft," Athos rejoined. "She should be the one on trial here."

Ninon's eyes flashed with fury. "Fleur doesn't dabble in witchcraft. She was born with these gifts. They terrify her as much as they do you or I. Her family feared her as well, which is why she fled from them. I tried to help her, but I know nothing of magic. All I could do was give her a safe place to live and acceptance." Ninon drew her shoulders back. "And I can do this. I will not let her be murdered for something she never asked for. Please, Athos, do not turn her in. She is a child and this is not her fault."

Athos faltered, uncertain what to do next. He'd come down here with the intention of confronting Ninon and getting her to turn in the real witch. But to hear the girl was innocent, that she had no control over these…abilities…it went against everything Athos knew of witchcraft.

But then, this wouldn't be the first time his preconceptions about magic had been proven wrong.

"You are truly willing to die for her?" he pressed.

Her expression pinched with pain and regret. "We will all be judged. I will face mine knowing I am not responsible for innocent blood." She swallowed hard. "This is what you wanted, is it not? For me to take responsibility for my charges?"

Athos's jaw tightened. "This is not what I meant," he hissed, stepping up to the bars.

Ninon's eyes wavered with sadness. "I worry what will become of Fleur now. If she is sent back to her family, they will either turn her in eventually or kill her themselves."

Athos exhaled tensely. There were two lives at stake here. And he was reminded of the last time a witch had been unjustly sentenced to burn and his role in circumventing it, despite the law.

"The Cardinal has ordered the pyre to be ready tomorrow morning," he said. "That doesn't leave us much time."

Ninon quirked a confused brow. "Time for what?"

Athos glanced down the dungeon corridor. "Be ready tonight. I'll return for you once we've secured an exit strategy."

Ninon stuck her arm through the bars and grasped at his sleeve. "Athos…"

He folded his hand over hers and gave it a brief squeeze. "Tonight," he repeated, then pulled away and turned to leave the dungeon. Part of him couldn't believe he was doing this, and yet another part of him could not stand to do nothing. The Cardinal would never let Ninon go, not even if Fleur was outed as the real witch; he wanted the Comtesse's wealth too badly. No, if Fleur was discovered, Richelieu would burn them both at the stake together as an example against witchcraft and outspoken women. The thought sickened Athos.

The only thing was, was he prepared to join them if he was caught helping them escape?

His brothers were waiting in the adjoining hall next to the staircase, loitering about as though bored so as not to draw attention. Athos walked past them and they wordlessly fell into step, none of them saying a word until they were back in the privacy of their guest chambers.

"So?" Porthos asked quietly.

"We were right," Athos replied.

"So what do we do?" d'Artagnan asked. "Arrest Fleur?"

Athos took a breath to steel himself. "No. We help her and Ninon escape."

Three sets of eyebrows shot upward in disbelief.

"Beg yer pardon?" Porthos uttered.

"The Cardinal will never spare Ninon, even if the truth comes out," Athos explained. "She is too much of a thorn in his side."

"It'd amount to treason if we're caught," Aramis pointed out carefully.

"That never stopped you before," Athos rejoined.

"No, usually you're the one trying to talk me out of suicidal missions." Aramis crossed his arms. "Ninon must be really special to you."

Athos narrowed his eyes. "That is not it at all. But she is innocent, and Fleur has done nothing to deserve being burned at the stake either."

"Fleur isn't like Agnes," Porthos put in. "She's not out there usin' her magic to help people. She's blowin' stuff up."

"Ninon says she was born with her powers and can't control them yet. If it wasn't for the red guards and the Cardinal threatening her, she likely wouldn't have done those things."

"How are we supposed to rescue Ninon?" d'Artagnan spoke up. "This isn't like Agnes in the village where we just had to fool a handful of superstitious simpletons. We're practically in a fortress here with red guards everywhere _and_ the Cardinal."

"There are tunnels," Athos replied. "We only need access to a map of the monastery."

Porthos snorted. "An' how are you gonna get yer hands on that? Askin' for a peek would give us away once she's disappeared."

"So we don't ask," Aramis said simply. "Documents like that would likely be kept in the abbot's office. We just need to make sure he's not around when we go for a look."

"I still say this is too risky," Porthos said. "Tryin' to sneak them out right under the Cardinal's nose? He's not an idiot."

Aramis's mouth curved upward. "That just makes the challenge all the more fulfilling."

"Yer lettin' your feelings get in the way," Porthos argued, shooting both Athos and Aramis pointed glares.

"You don't have to be party to this," Athos said and meant it. He would not ask any of them to put themselves at risk. Though, it would certainly increase their chances of success if they were all on board.

Porthos sighed. "Like I'd let you get yourselves killed."

"Even if we get Ninon out through the tunnels," d'Artagnan interjected, "if she's discovered missing and we're nowhere to be found, the Cardinal is going to suspect us."

"We'll have to stay here, make sure we're seen helping with the search," Athos said. "Savron can take them."

"Where will they even go?" Aramis asked. "Ninon will be a fugitive."

"I have an idea on that," Athos replied and glanced at the slant of afternoon daylight through the window. "Come on. We need to see those maps."

.o.0.o.

It was easy enough for Aramis to pull the head monk aside in the corridor and distract him with a theological discussion while d'Artagnan stood watch at the corner between them and the Brother's office. Aramis kept the man engaged with questions and ramblings until d'Artagnan finally gave a nod that Athos and Porthos were done. Then Aramis smiled and thanked the flustered monk for his time before heading back to the musketeers' guest chambers.

He met d'Artagnan outside the door; Athos and Porthos were already inside laying out cutlery in a crude proximation of the monastery's structure.

"Porthos and I will take Ninon out through this tunnel here," Athos said, tracing the route on the table. "There's another one under the kitchens you two should be able to get Fleur Baudin through. We'll meet on the south side of the monastery." He turned to Porthos. "You're sure you can pick the lock of Ninon's cell?"

Porthos snorted. "'Course."

"What about the red guards?" d'Artagnan asked.

"You and Aramis will have to distract them while Porthos and I slip past," Athos said matter-of-factly.

Aramis sighed. "I doubt theological debates will work on them."

"I'm sure you'll think of something." Athos paused to throw him a dry look. "Just don't get yourself detained."

Aramis flashed him a daring grin at the challenge.

Athos rolled his eyes and went back to the table, going over the plan again and again until they could all more or less picture the routes without a proper map in front of them. Precision would be key to them all getting away with this.

Eventually it was time and the four of them exchanged silent nods of solidarity, then headed out. This late at night, most of the monastery's inhabitants had retired to their chambers or the chapel for contemplation, leaving the halls clear for the musketeers to slip quietly through. When they came to the doors that led down to the dungeons, Aramis separated from the others and strode nonchalantly toward the two red guards on duty.

He slowed as he approached them, pretending to cast a furtive glance at the stairwell over their shoulders. Then he leaned in and lowered his voice.

"The monks are certain this is a safe enough distance from the…?" He trailed off with a meaningful glance at the door behind them.

The red guards snorted and exchanged a snigger.

"You frightened, musketeer?"

Aramis raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "You're not? Did you not see the witch's display of power during the trial? It was rather unnerving." He made a show of crossing himself for good measure. "But standing guard up here is probably safe."

Now the guards glanced at each other warily.

"We're not that close," one of them argued.

"You're closer than the rest of us here," Aramis countered. "The first line of defense should the witch try to exact vengeance on us before she's burned." He hesitated and took a careful step backward. "Who knows how far her magic can reach."

The guards shared a nervous look, then edged away from the door, just enough for Athos and Porthos to quietly slip through behind them unnoticed.

Aramis straightened as though he'd just remembered something. "Well, I will leave you brave men to your duty."

He pivoted and strode away, grinning madly. D'Artagnan was waiting for him around the corner, the boy's lips also quirking. But there was no time for amusement as they quickly made their way toward the guest room the girls were being housed in for the duration of the trial. They crept toward the door and knocked softly lest they draw the attention of a nun.

After several long moments and repeated rapping, the door finally cracked open and one of the girls peered out fearfully.

"Forgive the intrusion, mademoiselle," Aramis said. "We would like to speak with Fleur Baudin."

The girl threw a frightened glance over her shoulder, hugging the door edge. "She- she's not here."

Aramis and d'Artagnan exchanged an alarmed look. So much for their plan.

"Where is she?"

The girl bit her bottom lip. "She…she was so upset about Ninon and the Cardinal. We tried to calm her down, but…she left."

"She left?" d'Artagnan repeated dubiously.

"Where did she go?" Aramis pressed.

The girl shook her head. "I don't know, I swear."

Aramis nodded and let her close the door. He turned away and ran a hand through his hair. "Ninon won't leave without the girl," he guessed.

"She couldn't have left the monastery," d'Artagnan replied. "We just have to find her."

"Before she loses her temper and her magic explodes in front of another dozen witnesses."

D'Artagnan hesitated. "You don't think she'd…"

"What?"

D'Artagnan lowered his voice to a whisper. "You heard her at the trial, the way she raged at the Cardinal. He's going to murder the one person who ever showed her kindness and acceptance."

Aramis's eyes widened. Cursing under his breath, he and d'Artagnan turned and sprinted down the hall and up toward the Cardinal's chambers. The door was open a crack and they burst inside, only to pull up short in shock at the scene.

Richelieu was on the floor, gasping and choking, one hand clutching his throat and the other stretched out toward a goblet of spilled wine that darkened the ornate rug like blood. Fleur stood a few feet away, arms tucked up against her chest, a small empty vial in her hands. Her eyes were round as she watched, frozen.

Aramis finally moved, surging forward and dropping down next to the Cardinal to roll him onto his back. "What did you give him?" he demanded.

Fleur blinked, coming out of her stupor. "I- I had to stop him. He's the evil one."

"What did you give him?" Aramis repeated sharply as Richelieu's eyes bulged out from his head.

D'Artagnan approached Fleur cautiously but then snatched the vial from her hands. "It's not labeled."

"It's mine," she said. "I've carried it with me since I was thirteen. I don't want to burn."

Aramis and d'Artagnan shared a look at that. "Get her out of here," Aramis said.

D'Artagnan threw him a harried glance but nevertheless took Fleur by the arm and started tugging her urgently toward the door. Aramis got up and followed, waiting for them to disappear down the hall before he would call for help.

But once they were safely gone, he hesitated. After everything the Cardinal had done—after murdering Adele—Aramis should just let him die. The bastard would finally get justice for his many crimes. Framing Athos for murder to discredit the Musketeers. _Savoy_.

Aramis shot a hand out to brace himself against the doorjamb, the sounds of Richelieu's ragged, gargling gasps sounding behind him. All he had to do was leave, go back to the plan of getting Ninon and Fleur safely out of the monastery.

_"Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord."_

Aramis clenched his fists and slammed one against the wall in frustration. "Guards!" he bellowed and turned to rush back inside. He knelt beside the Cardinal and began loosening his robes in an effort to ease his strained breathing.

Pounding footsteps arrived, followed by gasps and exclamations.

"I need castor oil and mustard now!" Aramis ordered.

"What happened?" one of the monks demanded as they crowded around.

"He's been poisoned," Aramis answered. "He needs an emetic, now!"

Richelieu choked and convulsed beneath him but Aramis found no pleasure in his suffering. Mostly he hated himself for trying to save this wretched man's life.

But damn it, it was the right thing to do.


	5. Chapter 5

Athos waited in the dark, the profiles of Porthos and Ninon vaguely discernible in the faint moonlight refracted through an overcast night. Savron's eyes gleamed when he turned his head at a twig snapping, but he didn't react so it must have been an animal.

"You're putting yourselves at great risk," Ninon spoke up quietly. "I can never repay you."

"I regret that it came to this," Athos replied. "You know you can never return to Paris."

He couldn't see her expression in the dark but her head dipped lower.

"I know. I suppose you would say I brought this on myself. If it weren't for Therese's accident because of the ideals I taught her, we wouldn't be here."

"I would not say that," Athos found himself countering, even though, yes, that had been the catalyst that drew attention to Ninon's work in her home. "It was probably only a matter of time with the Cardinal anyway."

They fell into silence once more, waiting for the others to join them. Athos tried not to fidget the longer time wore on; the longer they lingered here the greater chance Ninon's escape would be discovered before she and Fleur were safely away.

Finally a flicker of torchlight illuminated the tunnel they were gathered outside of. Athos tensed, hand going to the hilt of his sword in preparation. He relaxed when d'Artagnan appeared, ushering Fleur out ahead of him, only to stiffen again when no one else followed.

"Where's Aramis?"

"Fleur poisoned the Cardinal," d'Artagnan said grimly.

Ninon gasped. "Fleur!"

"I'm sorry," the girl sobbed, throwing herself into Ninon's arms. "I just couldn't bear to let him get away with this. He's a horrible man! He was going to burn you!"

Athos couldn't believe this turn of events. "Is the Cardinal dead?" he asked stiffly.

D'Artagnan shook his head. "Not when I left. Aramis stayed to help him."

"Why?" Porthos growled.

D'Artagnan just gave him a look.

Athos exhaled sharply. As much as they all hated the Cardinal, of course none of them could just stand by and do nothing if he was threatened. He was First Minister of France, after all, and as such they were duty bound to protect him as much as the King. Though a small part of Athos did wonder how hard Aramis would try to save him…

"You need to go, now," he said to the women.

Fleur pulled away from Ninon's comforting embrace and sniffed. "You're not going to arrest me?"

"You were distraught and not thinking clearly," he replied. "Many people have put themselves at risk to help you so let's not let it go to waste. However…you should pray the Cardinal does survive."

If he didn't, well, that would be a whole new complicated mess to deal with.

"Where will we go?" Ninon asked. "I have no money, no means to support us."

"There is a woman we know, a friend," Athos replied. "And she's a witch. She might be able to help Fleur learn to control her…powers."

Ninon looked surprised, then nodded. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry," Fleur said again, turning to Ninon. "I've ruined everything."

Ninon put her hands on the girl's shoulders. "This wasn't your fault. Besides, this could be a good thing. Athos's friend may be able to help you far more than I ever could."

"But what about you? You've lost your home, everything."

A flash of sadness crossed her face, but she gave Fleur a wan smile. "Those are just material things. And perhaps I have some things to learn as well."

"Come on," Athos urged, impatient to see them on their way. He led Fleur over to Savron and gave her a boost up into the saddle. "Don't be afraid. He's very gentle."

He then grabbed a spare belt from the saddlebag to secure around her waist and hooked the anchor line to it. Once Fleur was set, he turned to help Ninon up next.

She didn't climb into the saddle immediately, but regarded him with a rueful expression. "I could have loved a man like you," she said softly.

Athos was taken aback, but he found himself oddly touched by the sentiment. "It's a pity neither of us is the marrying kind," he replied with shared regret.

Ninon hesitated. "I promised not to kiss you if you didn't desire it…"

He stepped closer and lowered his mouth to hers. Since there was no hope for them, he could allow himself this one moment of weakness.

It ended all too soon, and Athos wordlessly helped Ninon up into the saddle behind Fleur and attached the other anchor line to a second belt for her. Then he reluctantly stepped back to give Savron space to launch into the skies. With the cloud cover, the silverback glided like a shadow into the surrounding darkness, bearing them toward Agnes's cabin in the woods. Athos trusted she would help them.

The three musketeers turned to head back through the tunnels into the monastery. D'Artagnan extinguished the torch right before they reached the passage out from the underground network and they paused at the door to listen. The immediate corridor was clear but they could hear the echo of chaos ringing out through the monastery. Exchanging grim looks, they ventured out and made their way to the Cardinal's chambers.

Aramis was standing outside them, leaning against the wall with his gloves in his hands, gaze fixed on the floor. Athos felt both a thrill of dread and hope.

Aramis looked up at the sound of their approach. "He'll live," he said dully, and again Athos felt the contradicting emotions of relief and disappointment.

Porthos grumbled something unflattering under his breath.

"Everything else all right?" Aramis asked quietly.

Athos nodded.

The chamber doors opened then and the abbot came out. Aramis straightened.

"This girl must be found!" the abbot said sternly.

"She has been," d'Artagnan immediately answered. "When Aramis and I found her in the Cardinal's chambers. I put her in the dungeon with the other prisoner."

The abbot blinked. "Oh. Very good, then."

A muffled voice sounded from within the chamber but Athos had no trouble identifying the harsh bark of command from the Cardinal, no matter how frail his voice sounded. The musketeers dutifully followed the abbot inside. Athos was struck by how vulnerable the Cardinal looked—lying in his sickbed, pallor ashen, lips chafed. It had been close.

"This girl will hang for the attempt on my life," Richelieu croaked, hardly able to lift his head off the mound of pillows.

"Of course," Athos replied tonelessly. "Before or after the Comtesse's burning at the stake?" he found himself adding.

The Cardinal's eyes narrowed. "Burn them together!"

A commotion at the doors interrupted them and a red guard hurried inside. "Your Eminence, the Comtesse…she's escaped."

" _What_?" Richelieu tried to sit up but failed, collapsing back and squeezing his eyes shut.

"You're sure?" Athos demanded.

"Her cell is empty."

He rolled his eyes as though irritated by incompetence. "She couldn't have gone far. Search the entire monastery."

"What about the girl?" Richelieu gasped.

The red guard faltered. "Girl?"

"The one I put down there less than an hour ago," d'Artagnan snapped. "For poisoning the Cardinal."

The red guard flicked a nervous look between Richelieu and the musketeers. "I didn't…"

"For God's sake," Athos muttered, canting his head briefly at the abbot. "Apologies." He nodded to the others. "We'll split up, help lead the search. Aramis, are your other skills still required here?"

Aramis glanced at the Cardinal quickly. "No."

"Then you're with us."

With that, they strode out of the room to begin the search for the escaped prisoners. It wasn't hard to devote themselves wholeheartedly to it, knowing Ninon and Fleur weren't even on the monastery grounds to be found. Each of them made sure to be paired with some red guards so there would be no question as to their earnestness.

By the following morning, they had searched every inch of the monastery from top to bottom. They had even questioned the other three girls, with some nuns present to make sure the red guards didn't berate them. They knew nothing, of course, and after one of the Cardinal's men started to become belligerent, the head Sister kicked them out.

"There is no sign of them anywhere," Athos reported that morning to the Cardinal and abbot.

"How is that possible?" Richelieu hissed, propped up with various pillows but still looking like death barely warmed over.

Athos shrugged, looking at a loss. "Well…she was a witch."

The Cardinal scowled.

"Thank you," the abbot said, maintaining his manners.

Athos inclined his head. "My men and I will be returning to Paris to report this to the King."

"Of course."

Athos left the room, joining his brothers outside in the hallway.

"He livid?" Porthos asked.

Athos arched a brow in response.

"At least he didn't win," d'Artagnan said. "Ninon's alive and far out of his reach."

"But he still gets to seize all her wealth," Porthos groused.

"There's nothing to be done about that," Athos said.

They returned to their guest chambers and packed their few belongings before heading out to meet their dragons. Savron wasn't back yet so they hung about, waiting for his return. He was supposed to stop to hunt some game on his way back to explain his absence if anyone noted it.

Athos glanced at Aramis, who was adjusting Rhaego's saddle for the fourth time. He walked over. "You regret saving the Cardinal's life," Athos guessed.

Aramis didn't respond for a long moment but gave the saddle strap a firm yank. Rhaego grumbled at him and he finally dropped his hands, shooting his dragon an apologetic look.

"He deserved to die," Aramis said angrily.

"You could have let him," Athos pointed out mildly.

Aramis snorted, then hung his head. "I almost did."

Athos was silent for a moment, then placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're a better man than him, Aramis."

Aramis let out a long breath and nodded solemnly.

"Savron's back," d'Artagnan announced, and they turned their gazes to the sky where the blue silverback was swooping down, a deer dangling in his talons.

The dragon dropped his catch on the ground to share with his den mates, and the musketeers had to continue waiting around while their rides hungrily dug into the carcass. Anyone watching from a monastery window would think nothing out of the ordinary.

"They arrived safely?" Athos asked his dragon.

Savron dipped his head affirmatively.

"And Agnes is well?" Aramis asked, and again Savron nodded.

Athos's shoulders lost some of their tension. Good. It may not have been a sweeping victory, but they'd protected the innocent. And that was the heart of a musketeer's duty.

.o.0.o.

D'Artagnan grinned as he watched Ayelet playing in the yard with Vrita, the green dragon knocking a ball of woven twigs around for Ayelet to go scampering after. He was glad to see them getting on so well.

"Hey," Porthos said, "you in or out?"

D'Artagnan wrenched his attention back to the card game he, Porthos, and Aramis were enjoying while the two dragons frolicked about. A glance at his hand and he sighed and set his cards face down. "Out."

"Come on," Porthos wheedled.

"Constance will have me sleeping with the dragons if I lose anymore to you today."

Porthos just grinned and turned his eager grin toward Aramis.

A shadow glided overhead as Savron and Athos came in for a landing.

"Hey," d'Artagnan greeted. "Where have you been?"

"At the palace. The Cardinal was finally well enough to return from the monastery."

"Oh joy," Porthos muttered.

Athos came over to join them while Savron stretched out to watch Vrita and Ayelet. "Where's Rhaego?"

"Pouting at the garrison," Aramis replied and tossed a coin into the middle of the barrel top they were using for a makeshift table.

Porthos's eyes gleamed as he laid out his hand. Aramis pursed his mouth in feigned appreciation before revealing his flush. D'Artagnan smirked at the flabbergasted look on Porthos's face.

"Deal you in?" d'Artagnan asked Athos, who nodded.

"So," Aramis said, gathering up the cards. "Is the Cardinal on the warpath?"

"No. He's still looking rather frail. Plus the Treasury is now flush with Ninon's riches, so he has nothing to complain about."

"It's a shame about her school," Aramis commented, dealing out the cards. "She truly was providing something good for the women of Paris."

"Maybe one of her students will continue where she left off," d'Artagnan suggested.

"Or the Queen," Athos put in casually.

Aramis paused in dispersing the cards. "Really?"

"She's expressed an interest. The Cardinal may have seized Ninon's wealth, but the Queen has laid claim to the library and its contents. It seems she wants to keep it open for any woman interested in an education."

Aramis leaned back with a grin.

"The Cardinal ain't fightin' her?" Porthos asked, gesturing for Aramis to get on with the hand.

"At the moment, he is too infirm," Athos said, not without some measure of obvious pleasure.

"To his poor health," Aramis said cheekily.

A high-pitched squeak drew their attention to where Vrita and Savron were bouncing the twig ball between them and Ayelet couldn't leap high enough to catch it. She let out another plaintive squawk at them and Vrita finally bopped the ball back down so she could pounce on it.

D'Artagnan chuckled to himself, his friends exchanging amused grins as well. Life was a work in progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT TIME
> 
> A trip to the great astronomer Marmion's observatory turns into a twisted game where the stakes are life and death.


End file.
